A Moment
by exitlude
Summary: Britta wanted to blame Annie and her terrible driving skills. If someone else was behind the damn wheel  say, Shirely , Britta probably wouldn't have fallen all over Troy and blushing like some spastic 17-year-old.


**Note: **Writing this was harder than I imagined. I wanted to stay true to the characters and the show's light-hearted mood. I'm certain there was a party of some sort after and I'm even more certain Britta would've over-analyzed that strange, three-second interaction she had with Troy (I know I did). ANYWAY. This is partly crack, okay. I don't even know what was going through my mind. It was 3am when I finished this, mostly because (SPOILER~) I SUCK at writing make out scenes. I start blushing and smashing the keyboard.

The post-space mission simulation celebration was in full swing. Everybody was elated after the day's drama and the crazy amount of attention from the press. So much so, no one seemed to mind the gigantic banner hanging on the wall with the actual "Greendale Greenstronauts'" faces (Leonard was sulking in a corner somewhere). Though, one of today's heroes was not in the dance hall, but sitting on the now deserted platform where the Winnebago-slash-rocket was parked, balloons and confetti strewn everywhere.

Britta was still wearing the white suit (with a little smeared icing from the, naturally, rocket-shaped celebratory cake). She had to admit, she enjoyed today's ridiculous escapade. The attention was not something she was looking forward to, though. She had had enough of that from "Brittamania" weeks ago. Taking a long drag from her cigarette, she exhaled and attempted to form smoke rings. She ended up making faces like some baffled fish. She wanted to slip away from the revelry, mostly not let anyone know she had returned to her old habit. Also, she wanted a little alone time to think.

Britta wanted to blame Annie and her terrible driving skills. If someone else was behind the damn wheel (say, Shirely), Britta probably wouldn't have fallen all over Troy and blushing like some spastic 17-year-old.

"Hi," she had awkwardly blurted out.

"_Hi_," replied Troy with a smile.

And, for some reason, she had smiled back. Faces inches apart and eyes locked. Britta was certain it was a stranger moment for her and Troy than it was for Pierce and Jeff.

Yes, they had a "moment." Britta wondered, half-amused, what Abed would make of that. He was probably right about the group becoming a somewhat creepy, incestuous bunch. Britta hadn't really thought about it-being romantic or (cringe) sexual with anyone else in the group. Other than Jeff, of course, since hitting on her had become about as frequent as Abed's weird pop culture references.

Now, Troy. No, absolutely not. The boy was...well, a boy. Britta felt that merely imagining anything with him would have the pedo police at her doorstep. She was quite aware Troy found her mildly attractive, but whatever. Teenage boys and all. Not that she didn't like Troy. She still owed him when he saved her interpretive dance mess up.

Hmm, no. Definitely. She would absolutely not cross that line. They were good friends, nothing more. Plus, she really didn't want Jeff to have the pleasure of calling her a hypocrite if ever she ended up shoving her tongue down a teenager's throat-oh god, no.

Britta took a final puff from her cigarette. Maybe she could get hang of those rings now...

"Hey!"

"ACK!" Britta coughed and wheezed slightly as she turned around to see Troy swiftly walking towards her.

"What are you doing here?" They both asked in unison.

"I..uh, smoking, obviously," stammered Britta. "Don't tell anyone. I really am trying to quit. Things have just been tough when my cat passed away and...what did you say you were doing here?"

"I didn't. I just wanted to say goodbye to the old girl," said Troy, staring dreamily at the beat up Winnebago.

Britta bit her lip to stop herself from laughing.

"Yeah, we definitely had quite an adventure with her," said Britta and she meant it.

Troy hopped off the platform. "Wanna go for a last one?" He asked with his lopsided grin.

"What-"

"I mean, just check her out one last time before they haul her off."

"Oh, right. Okay."

_Get your head out of the freakin' gutter, Britta! "Adventures." Right._

There was still smoke issuing from the small explosion earlier. There wasn't much damage, though, they noticed as the stepped inside. It was completely dark and the whole contraption seemed to have malfunctioned after the blast that the lights refused to come on. Though, the light from the lamps in the parking lot was sufficient enough. Britta stood by the door, watching Troy linger by the captain's chair. He really must have relished that moment, being the captain, even if it were just for a bogus rocket ship from the 80s.

He was sitting on the captain's chair, swinging around and bopping his head to a beat only he could hear. He didn't seem to mind that the dust from the blast was all over his clothes.

"One of hell a day, huh?" said Britta.

"Totally," said Troy, sound dazed. "Guess we gotta thank Annie."

"Or Pierce for freaking out and shutting us in," retorted Britta.

"Yeah, you guys were great," murmured Troy. "I'm proud to be part of this crew."

"The pleasure's all ours, captain."

Maybe it was because their "moment" was still wedged in her mind, maybe it was because it was dark and it was just the two of them, maybe it was curiosity propelling her, but Britta found herself in one second, standing in front of Troy and another second, sitting on top of him. It was pretty much a mirror image of when she had toppled over him a while ago. But this time, they were alone, the scent of burning plastic and the faint sounds of crickets surrounding them. Faces inches apart and eyes locked. At the back of Britta's mind was a voice yelling at her, questioning what in the hell she was doing. Though, for the moment, she didn't really care as the inches between her and Troy's faces lessened and their lips touched.

Yes, Britta thought as Troy slipped his arms around her back and slightly tugged at her ponytail and as she pressed herself harder against him at an attempt to balance herself (or something like that), they definitely had to thank Annie and her terrible driving.

-fin-

Review, please! :)


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